Metal and Fire
by JumpinPopTarts
Summary: 100 oneshots of the best pairing in FMA…EVER! of course, we’re talking RoyxEd! expect loadsa different subjects and situations as the plot bunny really gets a workout! Collab. with 0.Forgetful.0!
1. Introduction

Hello everyone!

JumpinPopTarts here, announcing the start of my newest fic; **Metal and Fire** which will be a collab between myself and Louie (0.Forgetful.0; go see her stuff, it's awesome!)! It's taken a while coming, but we hope you'll enjoy it!

As for the plot, well….anyone with a DA account should know that there's a 100-theme list going around that site; loads of random words with no running pattern that are supposed to stretch people's creative talent. It sounded amazing…so we've decided to bring it to ff too! It's as simple as it sounds, 100 theme words mean 100 little oneshots of the best pairing in FMA…EVER! (of course, we're talking RoyxEd!) encompassing various genres (e.g I'm a fluff nut, but 0.Forgetful.0's promised some angst in hers) and all sorts of situations as the plot bunny really gets a workout.

Anyway, 0.Forgetful.0's doing the even numbers and I'm doing the odd…which means I get to start! Yay! _+dances around like a loon+_ So, with out any further ado…lets get going!

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Title: Introduction

**Rating: PG13**

**A/N: Not the fluffiest start…but I thought I'd write a ficlet about Ed and Roy's first meeting! 99 of the dialogue it copied off the subbed anime to make it as realistic as possible (which meant more FMA watching for me! Yay!)**

**Anyway, enjoy!**

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The pain just wouldn't stop.

Over and over, hour after hour, day after day, it scorched like flames through his every nerve, feeding on his tears and muffled screams, the cries that writhed beneath his tongue, bursting to get out.

But they never did.

Ever.

Because Edward Elric would never cry. Eleven years without a father had robbed him of the strength to do so.

_You'd have thought God would have been content with just that punishment. But no._

Ed's lip trembled into another quavering moan.

_Without a father…and now without a mother._

His limbs twisted, knots of memory tightening like ligature, cutting off the blood until the flesh was bloated and bruised. An endless open wound.

Fists tightened, clutching straws. The last of his strength hovered above him, around him, the house of Pinako Rockbell, (a stronghold throughout his childhood) now nothing more than wood and stone, no protection against the nightmares of the outside.

Of what happened on that fateful night…

Memories surged out of the dark behind his eyes.

He'd tried to bat them away, to fend them off just as he did to everything else in his life that had hurt him. His fights with Al, his loneliness, his secret longing to see his father again…all of these he could shut away at will.

But not this.

Never this.

Because, with all the others, his comfort blanket had been his alchemy; its complex theorems and patterns bringing order to his twisting soul. Once, he had been able to bury it all in work. It had made him strong, made him clever…

…but no longer.

Another sobbing gasp wrenched from between his lips. His chest heaved and the bandages over his stunted limbs tightened horribly; chilling reminders of where there had once been living flesh; flesh now taken as payment for this miserable existence.

Taken by alchemy. His last defence.

And without that, Ed was nothing but pain.

Winry would visit his little sickbay sometimes, her familiar face and chatter a welcome break in his endless hours alone. But that was all she was; a distraction, a fleeting thing. He barely felt her cooling, soothing fingers, or understood the words that she whispered into his ears; words to comfort, words to support, words that those who were 'just friends' should never say to one another.

But they were meaningless, like static, and everything drifted by, pointless, empty, grey.

Until the day He came.

**oOOOo**

A morning like any other, an afternoon spent staring at nothing, too weak to even sit up for long…and then in the evening came Winry, with her wide blue eyes and demanding, high-pitched questions.

"What happened, Ed? You two came back from your training and now this? Oh, why won't you tell us anything! Even Al won't talk until you do!"

But Ed just turned away, blank-eyed, his hidden face crumpling as Pinako took up the questioning, her replies touching instantly on that agonised, unspoken truth.

"You tried to resurrect your mother." Her words should have been an accusation, angry at least, but instead they were quiet, empty, and to Ed that was the worst thing of all. That brief, intangible gentleness, sent the walls of grief crashing down around him and the boy winced away, feigning sleep to shut the Rockbells and their questions out for another night.

And then it happened.

Someone else spoke. Two simple words, but enough to set his entire body on fire.

"I see."

It was a warm voice, a rich voice, a voice unlike anything he had ever heard before; deep and dark and sonorous, calling him out of his tortured weakness and into the present day.

His hands bunched under the sheets. Ed kept his eyes closed, but his mind painted the speaker into his mind with sound alone.

Tall; he could tell that from the way his words echoed in the rafters. Handsome; no voice so exotic could be anything else. Arrogant too, yet somehow humble, as though he too knew something of what it was like to survive pain.

"I saw a light, coming from this village a few nights ago." The stranger was saying and Ed shivered, trying to ignore the ugly thing that stirred within him when he heard those words. The light. The light of-

"…the light of a human transmutation." The stranger spoke his thoughts exactly and the boy felt his body tense, like a coiled spring, wound tighter and tighter around the pain in his heart. The voice went on, oblivious.

"I've never seen such a strong transmutation response before…" For a moment the words sounded wistful, admiring in a way that made Ed's stomach flutter with ridiculous levels of pride.

What he had done that night was foul, was wrong, and yet in the eyes of this mysterious stranger it was impressive…something to be appreciated, for all its twisted wrongness.

_But there was no need to feel quite this happy about it._

Squashing his giddy heartbeat, Ed emptied his lungs as quietly as possible and refocused on the conversation, where some angry retort by Auntie Pinako had just been fired at the stranger.

"Excuse me." The man replied, half-apologetic, half businesslike, as though he had remembered his actual purpose for being there. There was a sound of ruffling clothes, then a chink of some kind of metal chain.

"A State Alchemist watch?" Winry's incredulous words told the 'sleeping' boy what had happened. "You're a State _Alchemist_?"

The words stuck a chord in Ed too. He had heard his and Al's sensei talk about her hatred of the military and the State Alchemist 'toys' that they kept in their arsenal, and had learned to hate them without question. But hearing this one now, a real live one at last, had filled him with fresh doubt. Surely they couldn't be as bad as-

"Pah!" Pinako cut across them both, cross and defensive. "What would a _solider _want with us? We have two people critically wounded here; can't you see that?!"

"What do I want?" The State Alchemist repeated. There was another shuffling sound, as though he had produced something else to show to the startled Risemboolers before him.

"I was summoned here, by this letter."

"That's the one that brother wrote." Said Al. Al? When had Al been there? Ed's eyelids flickered but he forced himself to keep them closed. The night that had lost him his limbs had cost his brother even more dearly and, though he loved Al as much as he had always done, he could not oppress the twinge of fear and horror when he looked at that clumsy metal body, and hated himself for it. He wasn't ready to see Al again. Yet.

But if this State Alchemist had a letter… was he a friend of their Father's?

"Are you one of father's acquaintances?" He heard Al ask eagerly, then judged by his disappointed 'huff' that the State Alchemist had just shaken his head.

"I have not seen Hohenheim for many years. We're searching for him too, at Central City, where I'm stationed."

"So you came to find him here?" Pinako demanded "Well, these boys' father is still as missing to us as he is to you. Now, we have an injured person here and he needs his rest. Please leave."

It took a brave man to resist Pinako Rockbell, but the stranger appeared to do so without a thought. His voice sounded from exactly the same distance away, as though he had not moved at all. Ed shivered a little and felt the State Alchemist's eyes ghost over him, as though assessing him for something. Not knowing in the slightest what it was, Ed still found his heart hammering, hoping desperately that he had passed this silent test.

But the tone of the stranger's next words gave nothing away.

"If he still lives, even after attempting human transmutation…then I have more interest in him than his father."

Ed's stomach was doing somersaults now. Him? More important than his father? Of _interest _to this strange, captivating stranger?

But the State Alchemist was still speaking.

"Who knows?" A smile came into the voice at that "He might one day become an excellent State Alchemist."

"He has done nothing to deserve such a fate." Pinako snapped, her boots clattering across the floor as she ushered the unwelcome visitor towards the exit. "Go back to Central and stay there. We're busy."

"At least let me leave my name." The stranger said, sending another fizzle of apprehension through Ed.

"I really don't-" Pinako objected, but it was too late.

"I am the State Alchemist, Lieutenant Colonel Roy Mustang."

"Great. Thank you Mr Mustang. Now if you'd just get-"

"Visit Central city." The lieutenant colonel said, as though he hadn't heard. "I promise nothing, but you may find what you're looking for."

That last sentence was said just a little louder than the rest, as though not spoken to the whole room, but towards the bed. To Ed alone.

Ed couldn't help it. At the sound of his words his eyes crept open just a little, unable to resist sneaking a peek at the departing visitor.

His heart damn near stopped when his eyes immediately plunged into those of the stranger's. Colonel Mustang was looking directly at him, a half-smile across his handsome face (even more handsome than he had imagined), eyes blank, unreadable.

One look. That's all it was. And then it was gone, the Colonel vanishing behind the door, his footsteps fading into nothing. But his presence still swirled through the air, like a hint of spice, his name whispered wonderingly from every corner of the room.

_Mustang…_

Ed breathed the name and smiled. The word rolled around on his tongue, enticing, alien; an unspoken invitation that he just could not refuse.

A strange tingle run through him just then, a whisper of premonition that warmed his bones and filled him with new strength; this was the first sign, the start of a chain that would continue during the long days of his recovery, all through the journey to Central City until the moment when he finally met this stranger again.

A feeling telling him that, from this moment onwards, his fate and the fate of Colonel Mustang would be permanently intertwined…

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	2. Break Away

Hullo, Forgetful's stopped being an ass and is actually writing! Woah, I know, slow down. Anywho, here we go. 3 MONTHS AFTER I WAS ASKED TO DO IT! OMG I am so sorry….

DISCLAIMER: Not mine, no way jaso. Um, jose. XD Although I'm a MAJOR AU fan, so a lot of my stories will be set in other places than Amestris. This lot below are mine, but they aren't well developed characters or anything. :D

**Metal and Fire**

Chapter 2 – Break Away

The crowd cheered and roared, a circle of grinning faces staring into the centre of the ring, anxiously awaiting the next daring stunt. Elephants topped by dancers had twirled and leapt, acrobats had contorted themselves into impossible shapes and trapeze artists had finished swinging from the circus rafters. In a few moments it would be his turn.

Behind the star-studded curtains, Edward felt the familiar flutter of nerves settle in his stomach. It always came before his call, butterflies twisting up his last meal. Or maybe it was the threat of a beating should he make a mistake.

Now the bright lights made his stage make-up melt and itch despite the heavy hood, and the jeers of the crowd throbbed in his ears. He was pushed from behind.

"You'll miss your cue if you just stand there gawping all day boy, move. Now." The manager took him roughly by the elbow and shoved him towards the light of the ring. Edward snarled and pulled his arm away.

"I can walk." He affirmed. Behind him, the manager grumbled and muttered furiously, but Ed couldn't hear him. Plastering on a showman's smile, he strode into the ring to a shower of applause.

The ring master -a thin man dressed like a jester- grinned at him, but it didn't reach his eyes. It never reached any of their eyes, Edward was only there for the audience after all.

As the audience hushed to hear him, he wordlessly drew back his hood. The spectators made no reaction, it was, after all, just a young man in a cloak. But they remained silent, because surely after the marvels of the shape-shifter and the water nymph this boy would do something remarkable. When he tore of the rest of the cloak to reveal shining metal limbs, the crowd 'oohed' and 'ahhed' respectively.  
"A clockwork boy!"

"Steel limbed!"

Edward ignored them. His unfortunate arm and leg were not his act, they merely worked up the crowd. It was the manager's idea and one he didn't enjoy performing. Dropping the cloak in the sand, He moved forward and drew a large circle with his foot, filling it with intricate swirls and turns. The squiggles were lost on the onlookers, and just as Edward felt their concentration waver he bent down and pressed both hands into the earth.

A blinding blue light filled the tent, and a wind roared up out of nowhere, tearing at the flimsy cloth. His hair whipped around him, and out of the stone floor he pulled a birdcage and a live dove. The audience, finally realising they had nothing to fear, clapped and whooped appreciatively. Opening the cage, he forced the bird out and it circled the tent above heads, searching for an escape. Finding one, it flapped hastily outside and into the night.

That was the end of the show, to be wrapped up by Florin the jester-cum-ringmaster still, but basically finished. Thankfully they'd finished on time, something vital for that evening's plans.

Edward walked through dark caravans covered with painted patterns towards a bonfire in the middle of their camp. Circus folk danced and gossiped, swigging beer in bottles and flasks. He moved swiftly through them and ignored the party. His destination was the large caravan of the manager in the centre of the camp.

Inside was a long table, and a group of cirquies stood around watching the manager pick at his fingernails with a small flick-knife. As Ed came in, he rose gracefully and thrust the knife into the tabletop.

"Now we are all assembled, I have gathered you here to make sure everything is set up. I know how useless some of you can be and I know the rest of you are just plain stupid, so, I'm going to do a check up and go through the plan of attack one more time. Clear?" Grumbles followed his words around the room but no-one complained.

"Gromjo, the bombs have been set?" A considerably well dressed cirquie nodded.

"Yessum, tested one from each batch Sir. All worked perfectly. Set up now to the directions on your map."

"Good, including the guardhouse?"

"Especially the guardhouse."

"Right, then that's sorted. Now, Stanze, what about you?" The manager went around the group, checking on things like rifles and schedules. Edward waited patiently throughout.

Finally, when he was satisfied that everything was at last in order, the manager pulled up a map. He jabbed at it with a pointy finger.

"We strike here; the heart of the special forces. The major training unit for the most elite soldiers…Soldiers who have probably murdered at least one of our brothers already. They won't know what's hit 'em and we'll have earned back the pride of our people. This will end all our payback," he sneered as though tasting something foul. "for that so called 'war' they waged on our kind. Edward!"

Ed looked up from picking at a loose thread in his coat.

"Hmm?"

"Are you ready?"

"Nothing to prepare for." He said quietly, shrugging.

"Right then. We leave in two hours. Be ready."

X

Roy heard the thud as his opponent hit the hard earth.

"You twisted too sharply. I only had to push forward to unbalance you completely." He held out a hand to the young blushing student to help him up. "Try again, only this time don't try all those fancy moves, you have the basics already." Positioning himself, Roy smiled and watched the boy pull a face of concentration, waiting to lunge forward with his blade and try his hand against the combat tutor again. He pounced quicker than Roy expected him too, so he parried a little more forcefully than perhaps he ought to have. The boy winced but held fast, pulling back to slice at his exposed left leg. Roy blocked this too, but looked up at his ill-matched opponent. "Better, good. You're beginning to notice blind spots, ah!" He caught the swing at his head just in time. It was unnecessarily vicious on the student's part. "There. You've got it." He dropped the tip of his sword to the dusty floor and turned to the rest of the students, addressing various pairs of boys locked in different states of combat. "Twenty minute break, free time! Make sure you get a drink, I don't want anyone dehydrating on me." The students were already chattering amongst themselves, ignoring him in favour of shady trees in the sun's midday heat.

He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. Opening his water bottle over his head woke him up a little, but the heat was tiring and his students were wearing him down both physically and mentally. They'd liked him well enough when he'd first come to the academy. He was fun, and younger than most of the professors. He knew the latest sports scores, teased kids about their crushes and cut them all a little slack.

But then he discovered that the city wasn't ready for someone so new.

Seycomb was a lazy city of heat and dust. Its people were courteous and far ahead by means of technology, but they had strict social restrictions. You didn't help the beggars, even the nuns went around with their noses up as they passed the slums. Anyone different was either a novelty or a strange demon which could be blamed on witchcraft and Devil-Worship. Youngsters were supposed to know their place and everyone was supposed to recognise their own class. Roy had come along with visions from the capitol city, a more equal and accepting society. He found the strange, backward views of Seycomb troubling, and more-fool-he, had tried to change them.

From then on he'd been called many things by parents, ranging from 'bad influence' to complete 'Heathen brainwasher'. The children had picked up on it immediately. There'd been cries for him to be forced from the school, but there was no-one to replace him and the school board hadn't excused him yet.

Still, it didn't stop the stares on the streets or the attitude he had to face in every class. And it didn't help that hormonal teenagers could take it out on him physically either.

He decided to find some shade of his own away from the gaggle of boys. He left the elaborate training courtyard and as he rounded the corner of the hedge-maze he saw a student looking slightly lost.

"Can I help you?" The boy jumped and turned to face him. Corn-golden hair framed eyes of molten fire, and his skin was honey and milk.

Edward had been scouting the area before the attack. It was an overly extravagant town of carvings, boarding schools and a huge cathedral. And now this exotic stranger was asking him if he needed assistance? What a strange place it was. Even the confines of the circus weren't as disconcerting as this.

"With what?"

"It's just that you looked a little lost." Roy followed the blond to the shade of a nearby wall and watch a gloved hand fan the boy ahead of him.

"I'm…new here." Roy laughed. "What? Is it that obvious?" Edward asked indignantly.

"Quite. You don't really fit with the typical theme of the place." Roy looked him up and down to indicate his meaning, and Ed supposed that his bright red alchemy cloak was outstanding compared to the conservative dresses and practical tunics of the townsfolk.

"Yeah well, neither do you." Roy was dark where most others were fair or muddy brown. He had sun-browned skin and dark onyx eyes. Something even Ed's travels with the ever-moving circus hadn't shown him.

"Well, I'm new too. But I know my way around. Where are you trying to get to?" Edward shrugged.

"Anywhere really. I want to see everything. Although, I don't really know what 'everything' is." Roy gestured to the manor house that was the academy behind them.

"Well that's the Academy of arts and combat for young gentlemen." Edward raised a sceptical eyebrow. "Yeah, I thought that too. Um, you know, I've got twenty minutes free from my class. I could…show you around, if you like. My name is Roy."

"Edward. I…I would like that." Ed couldn't fight the smile that flew to his lips. Here was one of the inhabitants of the town they were about to declare war on, and he was willing to show Ed around the exact spots he needed to blow up. The irony.

They passed through the school grounds and Ed looked in on classes of young ones learning their early literacy. Roy took him through the path by the lake and the wagon where the gypsies read palms and showed little children puppet shows. The bank and the City hall and the Palace of Justice passed and soon it got to the dreaded subject.

"So, where are you from?" He knew he shouldn't answer, or at least should lie. But Roy was kind to him, treated him like an equal. It wasn't often that someone spoke sincerely to the circus' strange magician's apprentice. Everyone would end up knowing anyway, what did it matter?

"I'm here…with the circus." He waited for the sudden uneasiness.

"That's extraordinary, what a way to make an introduction. What do you do? Are you an acrobat?" Roy's eyes sparkled with interest and excitement, and Edward's heart flipped. No-one had ever thought he was something extraordinary before.

"No I…" Ed decided it would be easier to show him rather than to explain. "Follow me and I'll show you." He took Roy's hand suddenly and pulled him through winding backstreets to the very outskirts of civilisation.

Finally allowing them to stop, Ed collapsed on an overturned crate.

"My father was the circus magician. He died a long time ago, but not before teaching me some things. I think it runs in the family, I taught myself."

"That's quite a feat." Roy responded, unfazed by their sudden dash through the suburbs.

"No." Ed shook his head. "I had to otherwise they'd have abandoned me. You have to pay your way in the circus."

"I see. So, what sort of tricks do you do?"

"No tricks." Edward smiled. "Only equivalent trade." Roy made a puzzled expression and Ed stood up and turned the crate over with a bang and an explosion of dust. In the dirt on its base he scrawled a transmutation circle, and tentatively he touched both hands to it. The familiar blue light welled up around them both and the box shuddered and writhed as Edward forced its very atoms to change.

As the light faded, they were left with a door in place of the crate, set into the ground. Roy remembered he had to breathe to stay alive.

"That was…frightening, and yet…" Edward watched him uneasily. Had it been a mistake to show his abilities to this familiar stranger? "That wasn't magic, was it? That was alchemy. I'm sure."

"But…But how do you…?" Roy reached into one pocket and pulled out a glove. On it was inscribed a black transmutation circle for sparks.

"I was trained to use it in the army, but I quit. I don't fight with these any more." He pushed it back into the confines of his pocket, and walked over to the door with a smile. He reached down and hauled it open to reveal baked earth beneath. "You are incredibly talented." Ed went red, but Roy frowned. "We need to return this to normal, and you should never use alchemy outside your circus."

"Why?" Ed asked, watching his door being slowly closed once more. Roy shook his head.

"The people of this city are twisted. They're quite happy to watch these things for entertainment, but among their homes and families…You would not be safe." Edward frowned. The audience had always applauded, and were never appalled. Still, Roy said it with such conviction and concern, he decided to take his word.

Not that he could avoid showing the townsfolk anyway, considering his job for that evening.

He hoped Roy wouldn't be close to the buildings and people he had to destroy. Was Roy a friend? He'd heard of friends, but had never been in one place long enough to make any. Perhaps Roy was, and if that was the case he certainly wouldn't want to kill him just for the sake of the manager's stupid vendetta.

But still…After all his exploring and Roy's tour, he still didn't know exactly what he was supposed to attack. He hadn't seen any elite army training hall anywhere.

Clapping his hands absentmindedly, he returned the door to a crate.

Roy watched with fascination. _A transmutation without a circle! Impossible._ The boy was worth his weight in gold, a walking miracle. He was about to say something when he heard shouts and screams from around the corner.

"Blue shadows! I saw blue shadows!" The shouts of men joined the woman's screeching. Footsteps thundered towards them. Roy grabbed Ed and they ran.

In a few moments he hurtled out of the alley, with the blond in tow, towards the main town centre. They dodged the market stall, ignoring the strange looks they got from normal peasants, Lords and Ladies, and sped through the streets. They span around people and knocked the basket out of a woman's hands. Through the winding paths of the city they rocketed, until finally they were in a place that couldn't even be called the outskirts.

Edward was released, flushed and panting.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean for that…"

"It's fine. It was worth it to see you do what you did, you're really…" He laughed, unable to find the right word. "…amazing." He settled on.

"I have to go." Edward said quietly.

"Oh." Roy sounded dejected, and Ed found himself reluctant to leave as well. He wanted to do something…anything. What was it his father used to do? Ah yes. That.

Leaning forward, he took Roy's arms gently and stood on tiptoes, quickly giving him a kiss on velvet lips.

Roy was astonished.

But he had no time to protest or acquiesce. Ed was gone into the long grasses and thick green leaves, back to the circus. Back to his manager's plans.

X

The night was dark; the darkest, longest night of the year. Picked especially for atmosphere and espionage, it provided the perfect cover for the cirquies to creep in.

Edward was stationed in front of the library, next to the manic manager.

"Which building am I targeting?" He whispered, hearing the occasional thump of the other cirquies in the background.

"When the time comes, I'll show you. Now be quiet and watch that door like I told you to, waif."

Suddenly a resounding bang thundered in the distance, and bright flames shot up to lick at the black night sky. Shouts filled the air and windows were thrown open to reveal men and women in nightgowns.

Ed was propelled through the streets at an alarming rate on the promise of being led to the final bombardment of the night. In a blur he found himself in front of a group of buildings; large, elaborate, overdressed. All the silhouettes looked the same in the blank black that surrounded them all like ink.

"That one first." The manager hissed at him, pointing to a large, square structure. Ed nodded and stepped forward with determination, clapping his hands together. He slapped the wall with both palms, and light whipped around him like snakes.

Within moments, the bricks and mortar of the structure were sand and dust, and inside were screams and drowning cries as people floundered in the sudden flood of desert. Ed moved on to the next building.

As more bombs and explosion bloomed around him, Edward methodically reduced the complex to ash. Change the sate of one building, ignore the screams, walk to the next solid wall. Repeat.

Half way through, he stopped before a window and clapped his hands together for the millionth time. A light blinded him, not the blue of a transmutation, but the flicker of a sudden gas lamp. The window in the wall opened and a little girl stuck her head out.

"Oh, oh Mister!" She called. Edward eyed her warily. _What is a child doing in a military training facility?_ "Mister, the place is on fire. You should get inside. Don't you see the smoke? My Mummy says that's from essplosives. You can come in with me if you want." Edward looked around for his manager, but the strange man was nowhere to be seen.

"Nina, close that window this instant! Didn't I tell you it isn't safe? Come now, we made you a bed up in the basement with the other children, you…oh. Child, what are you doing outside?" Edward jumped, startled by the new voice. A woman came into view and she turned down the gas lamp.

"I'm…Helping with the fires." He replied to the motherly figure in the window. It wasn't exactly a lie. He was helping the fires…start.

"It's too dangerous for one your age. Your mother will be having fits. What's going on out there young man? We heard explosions."

"I don't know." He lied. "I got lost in the dark. Where is this place?"

"This is the Primary School House, in fact you're in the schooling district. Most of the trouble is that way." She pointed in the direction Ed had come from, and his path of destruction a few streets away.

Ed looked at her horrified. He'd been killing in the suburbs?

That meant…those screams hadn't been soldiers and murderers. It'd been children and teachers and pupils asleep in their beds. He'd slaughtered to get revenge for a slaughter.

He felt dirty and sick.

Nodding vaguely, he turned towards the loudest disturbance, walking away from the woman's cries for him to come back and wait it out with them. He wasn't going to kill any more. No-one deserved to die in Seycomb, and as he'd thought, there wasn't even a military base there to destroy. It was mindless killing. He was a mindless tool.

He broke into a run, heart and feet pounding in rhythm. Heat surrounded him and he realised the fires had caught up with him, or the other way round…He couldn't remember which way he had run. People rushed about in various degrees of panic. Blood and screams and the stench of burning flesh filled the air, and smoke choked his lungs.

"Edward!" He carried on running. If the cirquies knew there was no base then he would be forced to continue, whether or not he willed it.

"Edward! Damnit!" He was caught around the middle and pulled to a stop. "Thank God, I thought they might have got to the circus as well."

"Roy?" The man was covered in soot and bathed in the firelight of burning homes, and yet he still managed to look composed…In control.

"Are you alright?"

"I…" Edward felt the tears well up, but he willed them down. He would not cry, he would _not_… "I didn't know." He whispered, burying his face in Roy's shirt. He felt a hand cup the back of his head.

"What?"

"I didn't know I was killing them." He felt Roy stiffen, and got ready to feel the sting of a punch.

It didn't come.

"Edward…You were the one who…?"

"I didn't know!" The tears came as he pushed Roy from him. "I didn't know it was children, or whoever…I…

…They told me it was a military centre of soldiers who had targeted our homeland. That It was payback for the murder and rape of our women and children…and that if I killed them they wouldn't be able to hurt…anymore." Ed choked on a sob, burying his face in his hands and feeling the tie holding his hair start to slip loose. "I didn't know, I swear! I wouldn't have…I never meant…Oh God."

Arms held him again.

"I believe you." With those simple words came such a relief. He would hate himself for what he'd done, the world could stone him and shun him and send him to hell, but Roy believed him. And that made the guilt something purer to bear. "I believe you." Edward gripped him like a lifeline, burying a soot-stained face in a solid shoulder.

"I can't let them find me. They'll make me reduce this town to rubble. I have to leave…To run."

"Follow me."

Roy took him past the flames and the screams and the shouts of men putting out numerous fires. More than once Ed pulled him into the shadows to avoid one cirquie or another, each one making Ed's heart stop. But they weren't stopped once and slipped through the clutches of fear tat gripped Seycomb. The town and the rubble was eventually behind them. Entirely another world.

"Where will you go?"

"Anywhere."

"Anywhere?"

"Anywhere that'll take me." There was a silence. Roy looked at the boy in front of him, so frightened, poised for flight. A golden boy with the weight of the world on his shoulders.

He wanted nothing more than to hold him till the trails of tears that marred his face were nothing but memories. "I'm going. Goodbye…Roy. Thank you." He turned on his heel and began to walk down the abandoned road. He thought it reminded him of the mythical road to nowhere.

"Wait!" Behind him, Roy caught his shoulder. "I'm going with you."

"What about your job? Your home?" Ed didn't want Roy to come. He shouldn't. it was elfish and wrong and he didn't _deserve _Roy with him after that night…But oh did he want him to stay.

"I can leave them. This town hates me, I hate it. I have no home here, it's time we both broke away." Edward considered him in silence, staring ahead at his empty road to nowhere.

"Alright, we'll break away."

Perhaps the road would lead somewhere after all.

I'm sorry folks. There wasn't a lot of fluff because this story will be CONTINUED (As I might with a few of the one-shots that I do, I'm a stickler for longer stories) in chapter 12: Rainbow.

At about 3,500 words I was REALLY ready to stop. BUT I promised JumpinPopTarts I'd post today. So I continued to 4, 176.

I am SO So SO sorry to her…you…Um…yeah.

:Cries:

I'm such an ass. Gomen. Gomen Nasai.

Review loads to make her feel happy and not hate me? PWEASE?

The purple button has started dispensing Edo plushies as well as cookies. Click enough times and you'll win one!


	3. Lightening

**Heya! JumpinPopTarts back again :) hope you're all enjoying the fics so far (and if not alert this anyway! With 100 'shots planned there's bound to be one you like in here somewhere! hehe..) **

**Riight, so the prompt. Lightening. Not the most original, I'm afraid; I start getting creative a little further down the list...but what's better than a good dose of old-fashioned fluff? Enjoy! #big grin#**

**Prompt: Lightening**

**Rating: PG13**

**oo0oo**

Far above the sleeping homes of Central City, a storm was brewing.

The ground trembled as thunder rippled from horizon to horizon, groaning under the bloated bellies of clouds, lightening flickering between them like some demented spirit in the sky. Rain slashed down onto roads and roofs, coursing into the streets from long-flooded drains. And all the while the people down below huddled in their homes, watching the sky and whispering, blaming anything from geography to God for the uproar in the heavens.

The clock struck eleven, its hollow gong barely louder than a whisper against the turmoil building above it, but enough to inspire hope in the citizens nearby. Eleven o'clock meant cocoa and duvets, and every one of them could soon be tucked up cosily in their beds, warm and safe no mater what the sky threw down on them.

Well, _almost_ every one.

Colonel Roy Mustang, hero of Central City and the darling of all its female population (save the ever-disdainful Riza Hawkeye) was still sitting in his office at Central Headquarters when that fateful hour struck, pen in hand and desk lamp flickering at his side.

He was also frustrated as hell.

Damn paperwork.

Thunder rumbled again and Roy groaned despairingly; he'd been staring at this particular form for quarter of an hour, but it remained as blank and unsigned as it had been when he first picked it up. It had been the same with all the others and the paperwork pile seemed to grow, not shrink, as he steadily ploughed through it. At this rate, he was going to still be there at 7am when the rest of the staff (those that weren't on the night shift) started coming in for work.

_It was no use_. The man sighed, running desperate hands through his increasingly ruffled hair. _He was never going to concentrate with weather like this. He'd just have to accept that Hawkeye was going to kill him._

If the Lightening didn't do that first.

Something twisted in his chest; yes, that was the truth of it, the reason why he hadn't signed a single form, why he was shaking too much to even hold the pen above the page…

Roy Mustang was scared of lightening.

Every single celestial rumble filled his heart with absolute, icy terror. Just the thought of it made him shudder, not to mention actually _looking_ at the booming ruckus going on just outside his window. Too bad the window didn't quite shut properly, allowing every conceivable gust and rumble to come spilling into the office and torment him even more. No wonder he couldn't concentrate on his work.

Mustang sighed and massaged his temples, trying to focus on the job in front of him (and attempting to ignore just how hard his hands were shaking) instead of the storm outside, but it was no use. It had always been like this, ever since he was little, suffering from a childhood fear that everyone had told themselves he would grow out of, and failed to notice that he never actually did.

He still didn't quite know what it was that scared him. After all; he _had _faced down some of the most formidable opponents in some of the most dangerous locations in Amestris without batting an eyelid…so quaking over something like this should make him ashamed of himself.

And it did, but that didn't stop the shakes.

Another flash and roar barreled in from the outside, and the working man flinched visibly, the pen falling with a clatter to the floor. Mustang jerked bolt upright, his eyes wide, staring and fixed on a point directly in front of him, cold sweat beading on his brow.

…But this time it wasn't only because of the thunder

Oh no;

There was someone in his office.

By his desk.

Staring.

A figure with flames for hair and bright, burning eyes.

"WAARGH!" Roy squawked and threw up his hands, papers scattering everywhere and flame alchemy sizzling through his brain. Eyes widened and fingers tensed, about to snap, but then the intruder stepped forward and the surprise turned to angry recognition.

"F-F-Fullmetal!" Roy gasped, glad the dim light hid how red he'd gone "What d'you-"

"Of course it's me! Who did you think it was?" The blonde demanded, automail fingers clicking as they curled into an irritated fist. Ed certainly hadn't gotten any friendlier, despite the six years he'd now served in the military. As usual, he was dressed in his dark blue Military coat, hair mussed after a hard days work, and looking anything but happy to be there. "_You _were the one who asked to see me before I signed off my shift, damnit! And it had better be for a good reason 'cause I want to go home!"

Another roar of thunder then, and Roy's fingers jerked taut around the pile of forms he was holding. The papers rustled and scattered, skittering across the desk in a flurry of ghost-white shapes, only to be snatched back almost instantly by the colonel's panicked hands.

_Damn that thunder!_

"Did I?" Mustang answered Ed quickly, head bowed and shuffling the papers, "I don't remember doing so. Probably something to do with an upcoming mission; I-I'll brief you in the morning." He flicked a hand towards the door and tried to still the quakes in his voice, praying that the slender youth in front of him had missed that momentary stammer.

But nothing escaped Edward Elric for long.

"Colonel, what're y-…"

Those golden eyes narrowed, flicking between the papers and what looked worryingly like a blush on the face of his commanding officer, before widening with astonished realisation.

"Oh." He said, softly at first, as though surprised, then stronger and louder, with scorn curling his lips into a gleeful leer. "_Oh_! I _see_ it now…"

"See what?" Mustang demanded curtly "There's nothing to '_see' _here, Fullmetal, so if you would kindly leave my office, I have some very important paperwork to-"

"You're _scared_!" Ed cut across him as though he hadn't heard. "Scared of the storm!"

"Preposterous." Mustang snorted "I am one of the highest ranking military officials in this city! What makes you think I would ever- _Aagh_!" White light burst in through the window, gusts tearing at the curtains and sending shadows seething out from every corner. The dark-haired colonel blanched and buried his head in his hands for a moment, broad shoulders giving a single, convulsive shudder before remembering where he was.

And who was watching him.

"_That_ makes me think you are." Ed smirked, the grin widening and widening until a real laugh burst from between his lips, filling the whole room.

"Fullmetal…" Roy warned, but Ed wasn't listening.

"So is _that_ why you asked me here then?" he howled, beating his hand on the desk to try and curb his chuckling "To keep you company? Take your mind off it because poor baby Bastard is afraid of the big bad storm?"

A warning click of Mustang's glove made the blonde's mouth snap shut, but failed to banish that long, slow-burning smirk.

The smirk of a rival who knows he's won.

"I. Am Not. Scared. Of Storms." Mustang growled through gritted teeth, staring at his paperwork as though he could burn through it with eyes alone. "I just don't like them, that's all. A superstitious childhood fear, I suppose, I- "

Mustang stopped talking.

Why?

Because Edward, growing bored of the rant, had just pushed the papers aside, leaned over the desk and kissed him.

A stunned second or two passed, in which both of them hovered frozen, lips stiffly held together, Ed's eyes closed and Mustang's wide with shock.

Common sense kicked in a minute later, Roy's hands forcing the two of them apart.

"W-wh-what! Ed! What are you doing-_mmph_!" The snort of protest turned into a satisfied hum as the smaller Alchemist ignore him completely and pushed his hands aside, closing the gap between them and sliding all the way over the desk, keeping contact all the while.

"Taking your mind off the storm." Soft lips smirked against his "What's it look like?"

"I-" he protested, but it was no use. Once Edward Elric wanted something, nothing in the world would stand in his way. Arrogant colonels included. Defeated, Roy sighed into that eager little mouth and let his eyes flutter shut, deciding to savour this unexpected contact for as long as possible, the sheer sensation trapping every question back beneath his tongue.

Slowly, almost shyly, his arms came up and circled Ed's narrow waist, only to tighten as lightening flared again, crushing them together in a not-overly-unpleasant position.

Ah, the _warmth _of him! Roy marvelled over the boy in his arms. That spark, that brilliance, that _energy_! The breath flew from his body as he drew Ed closer, unsure whether this really was the body of his subordinate, or whether a real live lightening bolt had fallen from the sky and into his waiting arms.

Another kiss soon sorted that problem out.

For nothing but flesh, real human flesh, could feel this good for this long.

Ed smirked again, and wriggled closer, feeling a shot of possessive pride run through him as Mustang's heartbeat began to slow, calmed by the smaller man's deliberate, comforting touch.

There was no explanation. No start, no end, no promises, but somehow, neither of them needed any. This moment, for both of them, seemed finally to acknowledge the spark that had been flying between them ever since Ed returned from the world beyond the gate. A vivid, mesmerising spark that flourished between them now, consuming them both until rationality flew to the winds and the roars of the storm melted into background noise, no longer frightening, or even important, anymore. Gradually, Roy's hands stopped their trembling, the fear easing from his muscles, brushed away by Ed's attentive hands.

That night marked both the start and end of something. For from that day on, Roy and Ed were never parted.

And Roy never shuddered at storms again.

**o0o**

CLICK FOR COOKIES! XD


	4. Transference

Transference 

_Hi everybody!! It's JumpinPopTarts! How's things? (I'm guessing most of you have probably died of old age since this fic was last updated?)_

_Aaaanyway. Another little fic to add to the list of 100 (I've actually written most of my fifty now, so am going to submit them one by one over time.). Some of you may ask; where is Louie (Forgetful)? Uhm...well...it appears she's lived up to her name, and I feel bad nagging so I'm just gonna keep writing and she may come back sometime...+smiles+_

_I wrote this a while ago (a LONG while since I actually don't remember when I wrote it!). I thought I'd have a stab at Semi-AU. This may be the start of a bigger fic, but only if I get feedback; I only want to submit what people'll like!)_

**Plot:**_ Roy Mustang is a military psychotherapist who is asked to counsel Edward Elric after he was left emotionally scarred at the hands of Barry the Chopper. Roy POV._

oooooooooooOOOoooooooooo

The clock ticked.

Its sound filled the room, spanning in almost tangible waves over the plain magnolia walls, the worn threads at the edge of the carpet, the long shadowed lines cast by the leaden window pane. It was half-six. The light was failing; if I had looked down I would have seen the sparse jottings on my clipboard shrinking to a blur. If I had glanced out the window I would have seen the Central cityscape darken into a silhouette beyond the pane, the streetlamps flickering on, clear and cold.

But I wasn't interested in sunsets. Instead I sat back on my professional swivel chair, shoulders back, pen sheathed but twitching, my eyes fixed on the slight black-clad figure sitting on the couch across the room. He stared at me with the same intensity. Unlike me, however, he cannot have been admiring the way the sunlight lit up his rush of flaxen hair, nor the way the shadows lost and blurred themselves in the lights of his irises, making them glow liquid gold, as bright as a lion's.

Edward Elric. Fifteen years old. Five foot five inches tall, IQ of 173 and apparently a proficient in eighteen different martial arts (this I had doubted when I saw the pre-case notes, but saw no reason to now; you could see it in the way he was sitting, lounging yet somehow taut, every inch wary.). He had no parents. The younger brother lived in the military housing a few blocks from my office, but Edward himself was staying in the grounds of the military hospital, at least, until the end of his 'treatment'.

To say the kid intrigued me was an understatement. No, he _fascinated _me; every expression, every twitch, flex, tiny nuance sent my analytical mind into a flurry of theory, none of which ever produced more than a few terse words for my clipboard.

The boy was an enigma, certainly, everyone that comes to me is. As one of the youngest and most successful military psychiatrists in Central, only the most problematic cases ever made it up to my office. They sent me the worst; manic hysterics, addicts, the suicidal…but when I'd heard my patient was to be a _child _I was shocked. The file attached only strengthened the feeling. The things I'd read in there I barely dare to repeat within my own head, let alone on paper, where anyone can share in it.

And so I had gathered my resources, trawled textbooks, brought bright paper and different coloured pens (only afterwards did I realise how stupid pretty _stationary _would seem to a fifteen-year-old), and met my patient face to face fully confident that he'd be walking home at least comforted before the hour was out.

Only there was just one small problem.

It was coming to the end of our fourth session and, apart from a brief exchange at the very first of these, he had not said a single, solitary word.

ooooooooooOOOooooooooo

_Aaaaand done! Like it? Cookie dispenser's still up and running, people! ^_^_


	5. Cut Potatoes!

And the next one!

...I've actually just realised I really don't like the way I've written most of these. I wrote them a long time ago and something seems a bit...off...about them. I'm really sorry; they're not my best work but....still...some RoyxEd's better than no RoyxEd at all, right? :)

Hope you enjoy it anyway. And THANK YOU REVIEWERS!

Theme: Cut [Potatoes]

_**Rating: 15+**_

**_WARNINGS: SWEARING AND STRONG SHOUNEN-AI (not actual yaoi...I don't think.)_**

**_oooooooooooooooooooOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOoooooooooooooooo_**

_OH fuck! Fuckfuckfuckettyshitfuck BOLLOCKS that hurt!! _Ed squawked and dropped the offending blade to the floor, hopping around the kitchen in fury, plait bouncing and injured thumb jammed firmly between his lips.

**Oww**_**wch**_**…!**

The young alchemist screwed his golden eyes shut with another curse. This was the last time; THE LAST TIME that he would EVER peel potatoes. EVER AGAI-

"Fullmetal?" Ed jerked to a halt, whirling round to find himself face to face with his superior officer. Roy was in his off-duty clothes, which draped hap-hazardly over his frame, as though he had just bolted from his room in a hurry.

Seeing the mess, the Flame Alchemist relaxed and leaned against the doorframe, watching his young colleague with a languid smile that, even now, made Ed's legs turn to jelly.

"I thought there was some kind of wild animal rushing around in here." The reply was silky smooth, but Ed could feel his hackles rising. He and the Colonel had been living together for six months now, and he knew him well enough to guess what was coming.

"But I guess I was wrong…" Mustang's eyes sparkled. "…Looks like it was only a shrimp."

"WHO ARE YOU CALLING A SO SMALL HE'D HAVE TO STAND ON TIPTOE TO SEE OVER AN AMOEBA????" Ed yanked his thumb out of his mouth to reply, then winced instantly as a bead of blood slid down onto his palm.

Agh this was ri_dic_ulous; he's lost whole _limbs _to alchemy before and yet, here he was, fussing like a toddler over a measly graze!

He scowled at the wound, realising all too late that he'd given Mustang a good view of it too.

And, of course, the size of it was the first thing the colonel picked up on.

"Awww but its only a _little _cut, right?" he smirked "So _small _you can barely _see_ it…like someone else I know…"

An automail fist is a pretty formidable missile at the best of times, and even more so when it's being swung at your head by an irate, red-coated midget. Thankfully Mustang had had more than his fair share of such encounters, and managed to dodge it without grazing a single hair on his ebony head.

That, of course, only made his opponent angrier.

"_Leave me alone, dammit_!" came the cry, Ed jamming the offending injury back into his mouth. "Bastard Colonel!"

But Mustang only smiled down at his little lover, trying to hide the curl of amusement that threatened to turn that smile into a laugh. For all his furious words, Ed could not disguise just how damn _cute_ he looked, with his flushed cheeks and raised tones, his words sounding thick as they tried to work their way around the thumb.

Edward's lips parted a little, however, as strong, tanned hands closed around the injured hand, easing the thumb gently free (a small miracle because, had it been anyone but Roy, such an act would have had them fusion-transmuted with something sharp and spiney by now).

"M-Mustang-!" Ed spluttered as he saw the calculating look in his superior officer's eyes. "R-Roy what're y- …Hey!"

The words died in his throat as the dark-haired colonel got to work.

The younger alchemist gasped as something warm and wet descended around his bleeding finger, foreign lips soft against his own skin. Mustang smiled, Ed feeling every curve of his mouth against his skin.

The Fullmetal alchemist remained utterly frozen for a moment. Something in the way Mustang was acting…some small similarity, took him back to when he was a little kid, with some similar (now forgotten) injury, and the way his mother used to speak that universal line that all mothers used on their children.

.

.

"_Oh, darling! Are you hurt?" She used to say, smiling her wonderful smile "Here, let me kiss it better…" _

_._

_._

_Kiss it better…_

_Kiss it better…_

Then Roy's lips began to move. A tongue darting in and out, as though the thumb was a lollipop, an ice cream or-….

A little groan fluttered in the back of Ed's throat, and the tongue moved just a little faster.

This was nothing like his mother had ever done, but _Oh_ it was working_. So_ well…

Roy's cheeks were flushed a little now, his dark lashes dipped low as he focussed on his task, seemingly oblivious to what it was doing to his flustered patient.

Or so it seemed…

So absorbed was Ed in this show, that he had unconsciously raised his injured hand closer to his face to get a better look…

…so when the Colonel suddenly moved his mouth from Ed's thumb to his lips, the younger alchemist only let out the tiniest squeak of surprise.

Fingers swept through his hair, burying themselves in the mess of gold, working their way back to send it tumbling from its braid. Lips moved over his, smiling as they felt rather than saw the blush rising high in his cheeks. Mustang was the most irritating, arrogant, bastard colonel that Ed had ever met…

But_ dammit_, did he know how to kiss…

Buckling under Roy's clever teeth and tongue, Ed's bright, angry eyes fluttered and slid closed, the fight melting out of him. In the last few seconds before his thoughts lost all coherent direction, Ed sighed to himself and remembered exactly why they'd ended up in this state;

Potatoes. Potato _peelers_ in particular.

Something he'd vowed never to come into contact with again.

Another sigh, bordering on a moan and those clever Colonel fingers began playing with the buttons on his shirt.

_Ah well…_Ed thought groggily, smiling into another long kiss

…_once in a while wouldn't hurt…_

**_oooooooooooooooooooOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOoooooooooooooooo_**

**_...... ^_^ ?_**


	6. Cat

23. Cat

_**Rating: 15+**_

_**Haha, I wrote these, what, over a year ago? It's so weird reading them again!**_

_(Owch this topic is SO overdone…but it's on the list so I have to do it…*adopts long-suffering expression and gets to work*_

_**Hopefully this one will be a little…different…from the rest!)**_

**_ooooOOOOOoooo_**

If Ed had believed in fate, he would be thanking Her on his knees by now.

…except that would involve disentangling himself from a certain dark-haired colonel, something that no being, supernatural or otherwise, could ever persuade him to do.

Blind to work, blind to schedule, blind to their (frankly disturbed) colleagues in the adjoining offices, the two of them were lost in a heavy kissing session, something that had started with a simple 'hello' peck on the cheek and descended into something far more…energetic.

Office chairs slid back and toppled in their wake, Roy's muscled body staggering and ungainly with his tiny lover cradled close against him. Red-coated arms snaked around his neck, blonde hair loose and billowing like a banner. Broad, tanned hands ran up and down a narrow back, clasping the nape of that supple neck and guiding its lips towards him, again, and again, and again.

They barely felt the sofa coming up to meet them, grateful for its softness for barely a moment, so absorbed were they in each other.

Only when Roy's kisses started to trail a little lower, did Ed finally remember their position.

"M-M-Must_aa_ang…." He murmured, gritting his teeth as warm breath huffed against his collarbone, setting his skin alive with shivers. "Musta-…oh…oh God…_Roy_….!"

Hot lips smiled acknowledgment against his quivering throat, but the flame alchemist barely hesitated before chuckling and continuing his…ministrations.

Ed let out another muffled moan.

Oh, he felt so _good_! So soft and warm and welcoming, the ebony hair like fur beneath his hands, the murmurs of approval rumbling like a purr in the back of his throat…

It was too much. The little alchemist gave a breathless moan, his head lolling back and his hands flying up, burying themselves in the Colonel' s thick dark tresses and-

_WHAM!_

The world stopped. The two of them jerking apart, half-blinded, as a sizzling flash of light erupted from beneath Ed's clenching fingers.

Of course, jerking apart when you are lying on an (exceptionally narrow) sofa, is not a smart idea at the best of times, and Ed was about to find out why.

Stunned and dizzied, the little alchemist swayed and scrabbled, then teetered sideways, landing in a heap on the floor.

Training instincts kicked in then, forcing him off the floor and into a crouch, but his incredible brain was a still a beat or two behind, filled with fragments of thought that just refused to string themselves into an answer.

… a flash?

A _blue_ flash.

Ed's fingers froze.

_Uh oh._

"Alchemy!" he squeaked, forgetting the situation completely and dragging the spluttering colonel back up against him, staring into his face without bothering for an explanation.

_If that flash had been a transmutation reaction, then what….?_

"Ed?" Mustang blinked dazedly, trying to register exactly why he had coloured spots blossoming before his eyes and why his little blonde was raking his fingers through his hair, as though searching desperately for something.

"what'dIdo?" The blonde was murmuring, so fast that the words blurred into one "what'dIdowhat'dIdowhat'dIdo-….oh."

Dimly, Mustang realised that those exploring hands had stopped somewhere at the top of his head, the fingers twiddling with a part of his hair that felt…kind of….strange…more like flesh than his usual dark locks. Worry flickered in the colonel's mind, an emotion only heightened by the fact that Ed was staring at whatever his fingers had alighted on with all the calmness and control of a stunned hedgehog looking up at an advancing bus.

"Oh." Ed said again. "Oh…god." But the apprehension was changing to surprise, the surprise to amusement… and then to all out screaming laughter.

"What the-" Mustang begun, but it was too late. Hysteria had set in completely and his lover was lost to sane conversation, his eyes scrunched shut with uncontrollable mirth.

"You…..you….HA_HA_!" Ed threw back his head and collapsed back onto the office sofa, one hand beating the cushions helplessly. "You…you're a…-"

"What? I _what_?" he demanded, but Ed was already reaching inside his pocket. Quickly, he pulled out a coin and transmuted it into a small, round mirror, still too breathless to form the words himself.

"T-take a look." He guffawed, shoving the mirror unsteadily into his partner's hands.

Roy looked.

A pair of cat ears looked back at him.

…and _twitched._

"What. The. HELL?!"

Mustang spluttered, unable to believe it. Surely it was some kind of joke? A mirror illusion?

Frantic hands leapt up from his sides, raking blindly across his scalp. Yes, yes they most definitely were there. As fuzzy, furry and _alive _as they had looked in the mirror.

"Fullmetal…." He growled, deep and dangerous

"Yes Colonel?" came the innocent reply, only the smug glint in those golden eyes gave the game away.

"What the _hell_ did you doto me?!"

"Alchemy!" Ed snorted "Simple alchemy! Must've done it subconsciously, what with you having put me in such a…ah…_fragile _state of mind and all…"

The colonel flushed at the implication in those cunning little eyes, and realised with horror that the ears had gone flat against his head. What, so they were reacting to his emotions now?!

"I don't care how you did it!" He spluttered "Just _un_do it! Get them OFF me!"

"Aww, but you look so _cute_, 'neko-san'!" Ed was beside himself with giggles now, clutching his heaving sides as he rolled left and right, laughter creasing his small face.

Mustang went redder than his lover's coat.

"Why you _little-_" the taller man growled, but even the dreaded height reference would not dampen Ed's mood. Seconds passed between them, the smaller one rolling heedless around the floor whilst the other looked on in a mix of horror and surprise, face filled with a steadily darkening flush.

Tension shivered between them…pulled taut….and snapped.

"FINE! If you can't fix it then I'll just have to do it myself!" Heels turned, blue military cape blurring furiously out of sight, shut off by the slam of a door and the sound of quickly receding footsteps.

…But Ed just kept on laughing.

Seconds passed in silence (save for a few muffled giggles), then the handle turned again, welcoming a second familiar face into the room.

"Was that wise, Fullmetal?" Hawkeye asked blandly, pushing open the door with a long-suffering look on her face and a pile of papers under one arm. "You know he can't do paperwork when he's sulking."

One glance told Ed that she'd heard the whole thing.

The thought made him grin all the wider.

"Hell yeah!" Ed chuckled, wiping tears from his eyes "Just wait 'til he finds out he's got a _tail_ too!"

**ooooOOOOoooo**


	7. Vacancy

21. Vacancy

**Rating: PG-13 (Curse word used) **

**Vacancy?? WTF? Ahh well, I tried my best ^_^ hope you like.**

oooooooooooooOoooOooooooooooo

Another boring day in the office, Havoc thought to himself, leaning back in his chair, unlit cigarette dangling from his bottom lip. Hawkeye would shoot him slowly if she saw it but right now he didn't care; at least it would liven up the afternoon.

On the opposite wall, above the gaggle of desks and soldiers, the hands on the clock shunted forward another minute. Only 119 more to go before he could get out of here and chase that girl he'd met in the bar last night.

Havoc sighed and rolled his eyes closed. Ugh he was so _bored_, what he wouldn't give for a little distraction around h-

_**BAM!**_

_(Careful what you wish for, Havoc!)_

The entire wall shuddered as the main door was flung open, swinging back on its hinges with a crack that made even those at the back of the room flinch. All eyes flew from their paperwork to the doorway, currently ablaze with the afternoon sunlight…and the silhouette of a certain pint-sized State Alchemist.

"DAMMIT!!!" Edward Elric screamed at the top of his lungs, face almost as red as his cape as he marched between the rows of desks, blind to everything save whatever had pissed him off.

"Mr Elric?" Fuery turned after him, rubbing the shoulder his superior had just bashed "Is something wrong?"

Ed ignored him.

Instead he strode over to his desk and smashed both palms flat against it, the resulting bang drawing every pair of eyes that wasn't already gawking at him.

"AAGH! WHY, dammit!" he howled, punching the desk hard enough to knock a pot of pens to the floor. "WHY can't I go?!" They fanned out across the carpet, as silent as the sheepish faces surrounding them. Nobody wanted to deal with Ed when he was like this. Hell, even _Mustang_, now Vice-Fuhrer and one of the most feared men in the country, still quaked in his boots when faced with this angry little midget.

The officers shuffled. Ed scowled.

No one moved.

"Wh-?" Fuery tried at last; anything to break the silence. Naturally, he lived to regret it.

"BECAUSE MAJOR TAHEI IS A BASTARD, THAT'S WHY!" Edward roared at the table top, his entire body taut with rage.

Silence.

"I was sup_posed_ to be getting his manuscript tomorrow afternoon." He explained through gritted teeth, still staring at the desktop as though trying to bore holes in it. "A preview. The book's been hailed the best philosophical thesis of this _century_, for pity's sake! But would the bastard give it to me? Noo_oo_!" he drew the last word out in a disgusted sort of sing song, the venom behind it making the front row of spectators shuffle back nervously.

"Instead he decides that 'oh I'm terribly sorry Mr Elric sir, but I'll have to change the date of my appointment' to the fricking _day after_!" Another fist-slam. Havoc was sure he heard the wood splinter.

"And he said it like he was being so fucking reasonable! Like there's no way I wouldn't be able to come!" BAM. Splinters peppered the carpet, Havoc hunched closer to his desk, out of range. "But I _can't_! I can't! Because it's a freaking Thursday lunch and I have-"

He stopped, remembering (for the first time in this little outburst) that he actually had an audience. A flush darkened his cheeks then, clashing horribly with his brilliant hair and the crimson of his trademark coat.

"What are you all staring at!?" he snapped, flapping a hand at them and throwing himself into his desk chair. "Quit gawping and mind your own damn business!" The rest of the room could only see the top of his head now, bowed as though buried in work. Havoc, however, (who had known Ed for almost six years now) knew better. Ed would have a pen in hand and paper spread out, but instead of writing, he would sit there, seething, rage simmering and simmering as the other officers continued to stare.

And awkward silence followed.

"You heard him." Havoc barked eventually, scowling at his quivering comrades. "Leave it. The Boss knows where his priorities lie, and the rest of you have work to do."

The crowd withdrew, muttering, to their desks, replacing the tense silence with the scrapes of scribbling pens. Even Fuery backed gratefully away; relieved that Ed wasn't going to try rearrange his limbs… just yet.

Havoc, meanwhile, sidled in the opposite direction, scooting his swivel chair up beside his tiny superior's and propping an elbow on his desk, as though Ed hadn't just howled his head off in front of a room full of adults.

"Hey boss."

"Buzz off, Havoc." But he just cocked his head to the side, grinning.

"Now, is that any way to speak to your elders?"

"Is that any way to speak to your _superiors_?" Ed snapped, "And before you ask, I'm not going to 'be reasonable' and reconsider. General Tahei can go eat shit cause-"

"cause you've got a date with Roy."

"Yes. Exactl- WHAT?" the entire contents of the desk was on the floor now and Ed's face was a smarting red.

"How long?" Havoc grinned slyly.

"April." The answer was more smile than word; a tiny blushing curl at the corner of Ed's mouth. "Six months, two days, three hours and-"

"Got the message, Boss." Havoc flushed and shuffled his papers awkwardly. Sure, there'd been quite a few smouldering glances exchanged between the Boss and the Fuhrer, but the thought of the two of them still made the blood rush to his face.

To distract himself, he made a couple a silly comments about how Ed really should get Mustang to pass that miniskirt campaign then stuck his nose back in his own work. He could still see Ed out of the corner of his eye though, doodling on his papers with a distant look on his face. Peering over the younger alchemist's shoulder, he saw that the doodle was an alchemic array; an exact replica of the one on Mustang's glove.

His pulse quickened; _surely Ed wasn't pissed off enough to set the whole place on_-…then breathed easier as the little alchemist lifted the single doodled sheet and blew gently on it. The paper disintegrated at the light touch, its fragments flaring a hundred shades of orange before burning out and fading into the air like butterflies.

A glowing kiss of ashes and alchemy.

Havoc rolled his eyes and turned away; the fun was over and he had to finish this pile before Hawkeye shot him after all. But a grin still lingered across his lips, a tiny reflection of the lovesick glow radiating off the teenager next to him.

Major Tahei's manuscript would have to wait, Havoc thought to himself, still smiling, just like everything else.

Because there would never be a vacancy in Ed's calendar if Roy was involved.

oooooooooooooOoooOooooooooooo


End file.
